


Turned

by TekkaWekka



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Body Horror, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Erotic Electrostimulation, Gags, Gangbang, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Minor Keith/Shiro (Voltron), Multi, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Prostate Milking, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Oral Sex, Sex Toys, discussed mpreg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-15
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-08-15 04:16:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8042254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TekkaWekka/pseuds/TekkaWekka
Summary: The wormhole dumps Shiro back in the hands of the Galra. He expects to be killed, is prepared for that, but Zarkon has a more fitting fate in mind for Shiro.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ...I don't want to talk about it.

It was, really, just Shiro’s luck that the unstable wormhole would spit him out in front of a Galra warship. Just his luck that Keith would be with him, that their lions were damaged, that Keith was injured, and that the Galra were after them almost immediately. He managed to get them onto the surface of a planet, get the lions and Keith hidden in a cave at the bottom of a canyon. He ordered Black and Red to protect Keith, ignoring Keith’s frantic shouting from the cockpit of his lion, and to destroy the cave entrance behind him.

They would repair on their own with time, Keith had enough supplies to be okay for a while and, while he wasn’t in a state to run or hide, his injuries weren’t life threatening. With a little time Keith and the lions would be able to blow their way out and escape. 

Shiro had hoped to buy them that time by running and luring the Galra elsewhere. He led them on a chase for nearly two solar cycles on that planet, longer than he’d expected, but lack of food and exhaustion had undone him in the end. He accepted it for what it was. As long as Keith was safe and the lions were out of Galra hands he was prepared to accept whatever came next. 

He suspected it would be death. He doubted they would risk putting him back in the arena where he might escape again and killing him would be a major setback as far as the Galra knew. Shiro knew that Keith could step up and fill his shoes, lead the team, if it came down to it. He wouldn’t like it, would resist and fight and care for nothing but rescuing Shiro at first, but he’d come around when he needed to. 

Shiro had faith in him. 

They would find a fifth pilot, Allura maybe, and the fight would continue without him. 

He wasn’t sure his gamble had paid off but he suspected it had. He spent what seemed like forever on a small Galra transport, bound and gagged, but he never heard anything about other paladins being captured. He tried to ask when he could, the only time they took the gag out was to force food and water into him, demand answers but all he got was sneers and mocking laughter before being left to his isolation. It was nothing new, nothing he couldn’t handle easily. He’d been through worse, so much worse. 

And now here he was, arms cuffed behind his back, forced down to his knees roughly, staring down at Zarkon’s boots. A blaster barrel was pressed tight to his skull, practically daring him to try and look up. The silence had been stretching on for what seemed like forever, long enough for his legs and neck to start to cramp up, but experience told him that Zarkon would speak when he was ready and not a moment before. He was a man used to getting his way and people obeying his whims, not to be rushed or pushed. 

He was, no doubt, enjoying watching Shiro kneel. He remembered looking into the stands when he’d been down in the arena and watching the Emperor watch him with skin crawling intensity. He could feel that gaze now, beating down on him, trying to crush him. 

Zarkon turned away from him, walked out of his line of sight but Shiro dared not try to track him. He expected to die but he wasn’t about to make it happen faster. He still didn’t know about the others and was hoping, perhaps naively, he would be able to get the information out of someone. If he knew everyone else had gotten away, or at least that no one else had been captured yet, he could handle anything else.

“Champion,” Zarkon said from somewhere behind him. Shiro flinched; he didn’t think he’d ever be comfortable being called that. “You may find it interesting to know that you humans are not so different from the Galra, biologically speaking. You have those that sire children and those that carry them, as we do, though it seems there are some differences. Studying you has been...enlightening. You see,” 

Footsteps and a sense of someone passing close by made Shiro shiver involuntarily. Zarkon paused, chuckled quietly, and then began walking again. His heavy booted footsteps echoed dully in the room. 

“Some time ago, an enemy released a virus of sorts onto my people, hoping it would wipe out the entire race. Once upon a time we had three dynamics in equal numbers, alphas who sired and conquered, omegas to carry children and protect, and betas who could do either. But, after the virus, the number of omegas and beta carriers plummeted, and many who were born didn’t live to breeding age. We had, essentially, been neutered. Destroyed. The omegas and beta carriers who were left were rounded up, given to the worthy to be shared and bred but it wouldn’t have been enough to sustain our numbers as the amount of carriers continued to fall. But then a solution was found.” 

Shiro stayed quiet but was very much listening. He didn’t know why Zarkon was telling him this, what relevance it had, but he figured any information he could gain about the Galra was worthwhile. He wondered which enemies had struck such a blow, what had happened to them after, if they were still around fighting the Galra and could be contacted, if-

“We call it Realignment, but I’ve heard some less kind terms. Turning. Bitching seems popular.” There was something very strange about hearing Zarkon curse so casually and something even stranger in the way he said it, the implication of it. “It’s the process of turning betas into omegas, making it so they’re able to be bred. It’s a long process, involving a high dose of omega quintessence and hormones and an even higher dose of alpha seed. These Realigned omegas are able to birth more omegas, free of the virus, but the process of bolstering numbers is a slow one. Only our criminals are used thusly, as it is rather...unsavory business, and most aliens we attempt the process on don’t respond well. But, as I told you, humans are very similar to Galra. The most similar we’ve encountered since the Alteans. Hardy. Strong. Survivors.” 

A cold hard weight settled in Shiro’s stomach. He tried to straighten up, lifted his head only to be struck so hard he saw bursts of light and the world tilted nauseatingly. He hit the floor and a foot came down between his shoulder blades, keeping him there. Zarkon laughed again, his boots invading Shiro’s vision. 

“You will make a fine mother to many Galra children.” 

\---

Shiro fought, thrashing and kicking, doing the best he could with his arms cuffed and his robotic arm powered down, little more than dead weight hanging off his body. It was futile, he knew that, but he fought them anyway as he was dragged down a maze of hallways to another room, injected with something that burned, and then stripped of his clothes. They threw him into a large room, hosed him down callously, then held him down as something was injected into his neck and a hose pushed into him to fill him with water to the point of bursting. He nearly sobbed as his stomach was pressed against, the cool water forced back out. It was repeated two more times, left him feeling humiliated and weird, hollow. 

After he was dragged into another chamber and more needles were poked into him but this time it wasn’t shots but metal. Long needles, poked through his flesh while he howled and thrashed, held down by hooded Galra, and rings and studs were shoved in after. First his ears then nipples and finally, as his thighs were forced down and he nearly bit his tongue off, beneath the head of his cock.

Then more shots, into the meat of his ass and fingers poking into him cruelly.

He was foggy headed by then, thick tongued as his body hummed with pain. He was hauled up again but couldn’t begin to stand under his own weight or push away the hands that toweled him free of sweat roughly then rubbed him with strange smelling oils and creams that made his skin tingle and heat up as his vision started to darken and his eyelids became heavy.

More shots, burning in his blood, voices talking over his head. 

Time slipped away and when it came back he somewhere else, somewhere warm, and resting on something from chin to hip. He was sore in places, nipples aching where they rubbed against the surface he was on, ears and cock throbbing. Ass throbbing, spots on his body where he’d been injected stinging. Hot. He was hot, sweating, and

He felt wrong. All wrong, blood boiling, head weighing too much, stomach churning and cramping, something inside of him hurting. 

Something was in his mouth, hard and round, forcing his mouth open. It had no real taste and he could feel straps around his face, holding it in place. The bench he was on was curved and cushioned, slanting up under his hips in a way that forced his ass up higher than his head. His arms were pulled back behind him in a way that was almost painful, forced his shoulders up, and enclosed in something that felt slippery where it was touching his back, like a kind of plastic, and warm and soft on the inside, from fingertip to just above his elbows. It was tight, kept his arms extended with no hope of bending.  

His legs were spread and bent, more cushioned surfaces against the front of his thighs and under his knees. There were straps, rigid but lined with something soft, around his thighs and calves, pulled tight and keeping him from so much as wiggling, and cuffs around his ankles connected to chains he could hear rattling when he moved his feet. When he moved his arms, which he barely could, he heard more rattling and felt a little pull on the chains by his feet. 

There were more straps, across his back, around his waist, over his hips, keeping him flush with the surface under him. There was something around his neck, heavy and tight enough that breathing was slightly uncomfortable, and when he picked up his head from the bench he heard another chain rattle, felt it pull. 

He was still nude, cock and balls hanging freely. 

Shiro shouted around the gag, tried to push it free with his tongue, strained against his bonds until he was breathing hard and sweating then past that, trying for any opening to escape, anything at all. He felt strange, sluggish, dizzy, and getting dizzier, but refused to give in to it or the fear burning in his gut. Fear didn’t mean anything; he’d been afraid for over a year, woke up every morning terrified, fought while afraid, went to sleep that way. He could work with fear and, even, make it work for him. Use it. 

He just needed-

“Ah, the Champion is awake.” Haggar’s voice rang out, raspy and full of humor. “We can begin then.” 

He felt a presence to his side, tried to jerk his head towards it as if he weren’t blindfolded, then gagged when the thing around his neck pulled tight against his throat. Haggar laughed mockingly and long dry fingers gripped his face, squeezing tightly. Sharp nails scratched at his skin, dug in so hard he thought she was going to pierce the skin, and then the thing (collar?) around his neck was yanked hard from behind, cutting off his air.

He jerked and screamed against the gag in his mouth, fingers flexing but unable to grasp anything, no way to stop what was happening. It hurt, the collar cutting into his skin, and all too soon he was sputtering and his head was head started to feel heavy. His eyes started to burn and a prickling tingle spread over his body. He thrashed, or attempted to, muscles shaking and blood pounding in his ears.

A gloved hand touched the small of his back and something blunt and slippery was pushed against his asshole. He wanted to clench against it, stop what he knew was coming, but the pressure was too much and he was weakening, convulsing, and it sank in past the tight ring of muscle. It hurt, a burn inside of him as he was forced to stretch around the widest part of the curved object. It got thinner once the wide rounded head was in his ass, curved forward and rested against something that sent a shock up his spine even through the fog in his head.

“The more you struggle the faster the drugs will work. It makes little difference to me, really, but you might be more comfortable if you don’t force us to rush through the milking process.” Haggar released him and made a clicking sound with her tongue. 

His head dropped forward, chin hitting the bench with a thud, weighing too much to even try to keep it up. Shiro turned his face to the side, let his cheek press against the slick surface he was bound to and tried to suck in air as best he could as drool leaked out past the gag and down his face. The thing in him felt heavy, big, foreign; wide then thinner then wide again before it curved out and forward to press against his perineum. The pain faded after a moment but the feeling of being full, stretched open like he’d never been before, remained.  

“Begin.” Haggar said, voice further away than it had been a moment before. For a second there was nothing, no indication of anything beyond the sound of his own reedy breathing. Then, so faint he almost missed it, a click and-

He shouted again, body jerking involuntarily against his bonds, as the thing inside of him began vibrating. It was against his prostate, sending waves of sensation from inside and out, and his teeth ground against the gag. It buzzed and shifted, rotated inside of him, vibrated outside of him, against his skin. He clenched around it, wanted to force it out but quickly let up with a startled moan. 

Fingers, wrapped in a slick glove, wrapped around his hardening cock and began to stroke as another hand touched his balls. He squeezed his eyes shut, gasping as his balls were fondled and tugged gently. He went rigid, willed himself to not react at all, hazy brain reeling in shock at what was happening. How could this...why was this...his body.

It felt so good. A thumb swept over the head of his cock, the hand squeezed and twisted, was touching him just as he would have done it himself but so much better, more intense, and yet his skin was crawling and there was a sour taste in the back of his throat. The slipperiness of the glove, the impression of warmth but not really warmth, the silence around him save buzzing and the slick wet sounds of the hand touching him, it made him feel alone even though he knew he wasn’t alone. 

Cut off. Small.

There was a jolt, electric and strong, and then pain; he shrieked. It was a deep piercing pain, started as just a small point inside and then radiated out. He could even feel it in his cock, rolling under his skin or...no, maybe there was actually something under his skin, round and hard and-

His body tensed further when the electricity ramped up, arched up against the restraints as his muscles twitched out of his control. It hurt, hurt badly, but the hands on him were still moving, dragging pleasure out of him, the vibrations still rocking through him, sensation warring with the pain . It made his stomach hurt, cramp up so badly he thought he might vomit but kept screaming instead, the sound echoing off the walls. 

Just when he was sure he was going to die, when his teeth were aching from the way they were grinding against the ball jammed between them, the pain stopped. He swallowed to keep from choking as the tension in his body released all at once, let him go limp as he whimpered. The on fire feeling had grown worse, crawling in his gut like worms. He couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but shake weakly as hands continued to stroke him. 

Yet another jolt, stronger this time, ripped through him. His cock throbbed in the grip of whoever was touching him, balls drew up, and he came with an agonized sob. The hand on his cock left him but the one fondling his balls continued its work and he kept coming, jerking and moaning brokenly as the toy in him and the hand on him refused to let him come down. His cock jumped, shot another pulse of cum, and it felt as if it were being pulled out of him.

He heard something but it was muffled, nonsense beyond the ringing in his ears but then more electricity, a low thrum of pain that wasn’t quite pain in comparison to what it had been before, and another hand, in a clean glove, wrapped around him again. 

A chill ran down his spine, out of place with all the heat inside of him, and then the electricity turned up in strength but not as just a burst, but a constant onslaught, wave after wave coming from the buzzing toy. He was hardening again, felt the weight of his filling erection between his thighs, a building pressure in his balls and twisting in his core. 

He came again, heard his own pathetic scream through the pounding buzz in his ears. His body was crawling with sensation and his eyes rolled back into his head as it just kept going. He stayed hard, on the edge, everything tingling and miserable. It didn’t stop, got worse as the pain fell away and he trembled from the aftershocks, body trying to chase the ‘good’. It didn’t hurt or it did hurt but a different hurt, a hurt his body accepted and rode higher and higher. His head lulled, tears staining his face and wetting his blindfold.

His skin itched, burned, and his throat felt raw. But it didn’t hurt. 

He wasn’t sure how many more times he came, how many different levels of electricity, how many different ways it flowed through him, just knew that at some point his cock was twitching but there was nothing left to release. It stung fiercely but he moaned, tried to push into the hands on him, couldn’t stop himself. He was stretched thin, drowning and floating all at once, out of his head and maybe his body, shaking weakly. The hands retreated but something else, cold and fitting closely to his finally flaccid cock, slid down to the base. Something else circled his ballsack, closed just behind it tightly, pinching near painfully. 

He couldn’t do more than whimper when the toy was tugged; his body clung to it at first but eventually let it go, leaving him feeling open, too open.

The world fell away, nothing there to keep him awake and grounded, for what felt like an instant but when it came back the blindfold was gone, his skin was free of sweat, and there was a different gag in his mouth. His lips were still forced wide but it was a ring this time, something he could poke his tongue through. He could see but only directly in front of him; when his eyes slide to the side there was a black square. To the left another square.

Blinders? 

God, what were they going to do to him next. 

His answer came in the form of someone, a male Galra, stepping in front of him. They were naked, cock hard and in hand, being stroked slowly. 

A hand touched his ass, trailed teasingly along the curve. 

“The turning begins now.” Haggar said, voice booming in the space. “Use him as you will, release in him or on his skin, but all knots must be in his ass and none shall go to waste. Do not disappoint your emperor in this.” 

Hands gripped his hair, tilted his head up. He tried to shake away, tried to scream but all that came out was a wet gurgle and drool before the Galra’s cock was pushing in, invading his mouth. 


	2. Chapter 2

For a moment Shiro was too shocked to do anything as the Galra’s considerable length invaded his mouth. His brain exploded in alarm and denial, the haze pushed back as he tried to comprehend what was happening. He knew, logically, and yet he couldn't...this couldn't be happening. None of this could be happening! But it was happening, kept happening, the heavy thick cock in his mouth pistoning in and out as the Galra rocked back and forth. Hands touched his backside, rubbing and pinching the muscle. He was sweating even harder now, alien warmth raging under his skin and in his belly, but shivering in spite of the heat. 

He tried to bite down, to banish the invader, but the ring holding his mouth open continued to do its job well. The Galra’s hips moved, forcing his cock all the way to the back of his throat, the head wide and firm when it prodded him. He protested and shouted, tried to anyway but all he managed was more muffled grunts as the Galra moved in and out if his mouth, drool dripping down his chin. 

His tongue pressed up to push at the cock frantically, battling against its presence. He felt it throbbing, twitching as it pushed against his tongue, velvety head rubbing against the underside as he tried to block it from getting into his throat. He pushed as hard as he could, felt something dripping into his mouth and gagged as nausea flared.

The hands in his hair tightened, pulling hard enough to make his scalp burn, and the Galra let out a lusty groan as Shiro's air was constricted again. “Oh yes, use your tongue. That's wonderful. You already know what to do, don’t you? Do you service the other paladins like this?” 

There was laughter around him, cruel and mocking. 

He froze, disgust and horror simmering in his stomach, uncertain of what to do. He couldn't do nothing, refused to sit still while they violated him, but what could he do really? He was at their mercy, weakened, dizzy, and tied down with seemingly no recourse. 

Was he really going to have to sit quietly while they raped him?

The hands on his ass gripped him, kneaded firmly, and then pulled the cheeks apart as thick thumbs pushed against his hole. He jerked, an unwanted shock of pleasure surging through him as rough fingertips traced his pucker. He clenched down, whimpering around the cock in his mouth, and someone chuckled. 

“Are you winking at me  _ Champion _ ?” The thumbs stroked up and down, teasing the muscle with firm strokes. Shiro’s cock jumped, the feeling cutting through him and going straight to it, and then he winced as the metal thing around his balls pulled tightly, making it clear it was connected to his dick somehow. “I wonder what all those slaves who looked up to you would think now?” 

A thumb pressed in easily and rubbed just inside, setting nerves alight. His cock jerked again, to the same end, and he whimpered. It didn't move any deeper, just massaged the sensitive muscle in a tantalizing circles. His cock tried to respond, to rise under the attention, and a low ache started in it and his balls. 

Something hot and dripping wet swept over his hole; Shiro held his breath, toes curling as it trailed around the rim and then pressed into him, darting past the thumbs holding him open. The Galra licked in as deep as he could, furry face pressing against Shiro’s sensitive skin, nose rubbing into his crack. His tongue was long, inhumanely so, broad, and stiffened up as it thrust in and out of him. 

Shiro gasped, eyes shutting tight. Oh god. What-what was he doing? Why was he doing it? Why would-what-it felt good, a tickling pleasure that grew into something else, something hot and terrible, as the the wide tongue touched him inside and teeth grazed his skin, nibbling lightly. The tongue in him began to twist and move, painting spirals and circles inside of him. The Galra’s hands squeezed and spread him further. 

The ache between his legs grew worse and his thighs trembled with the need to shut them, to stop the loathsome touch. He clenched but that just made it worse, made the seeking muscle mapping out his insides feel larger. 

Tears were leaking out past his clenched eyes, dripping down his face as he let out a shuddering sob. 

“Oh, don’t cry,” someone said. “We’re going to make you feel good, just like alphas should do for omegas. You’ll be begging for it by the end.” 

One of the hands in his hair smoothed it back as the Galra fucking his mouth picked up pace, moving in time with his words. It lodged a little deeper each time, no longer content with shallow thrusts, and nudged the back of his throat. Then, as he wheezed and blinked tear filled eyes, forced its way even further back. His throat convulsed, tightened around the invader but he didn't choke or gag. It slide down without issue until his nose was pressed against short purple fur; he breathed in and a heavy, musky smell took over his senses as salty bitterness coated his mouth.

Soft slurping noises came from behind him and, against his will, his body softened to the Galra’s attention, hips trying to rock and body tingling. He swallowed reflexively, and the Galra in his mouth let out a breathless sound then started fucking his mouth again, fast hard thrusts that battered his throat. 

“How many knots do you think you’ll be able to take?” the Galra panted. “The Emperor says we’re supposed to give you lots. Keep going until you’re making your own slick and ready to be bred and then keep going after that. Maybe you’ll walk away already carrying.” 

Shiro grunted a denial, the very idea turning his stomach. That wasn’t...it wasn’t really possible was it? They couldn’t...change him like that, could they? It had to be impossible. 

He needed it to be impossible. 

His hair was pulled and again pain crept over his scalp. The Galra behind him kept going, cruel tongue sweeping over that spot that made his vision quake. His legs shook, muscles tensed to the point of being painful. The cock in his mouth moved faster and his head was forced to move as much as it could, his air cut off and returned in spurts, only occasional moments of being able to suck in sweat and musk soaked air. It tasted like skin, like Galra, and he wanted to be sick. 

He swallowed, tried to suck in more air in spite of how terrible it was, to fill his aching lungs, and the Galra’s pace changed. It became faster still, short little barely there motions that left him lingering in his mouth, in his throat, as his length became rigid and...grew? In his mouth, completely cut off his air as his nose smashed into the Galra’s pubic hair. 

“Ah!” the Galra shouted. “Fuck!”

He felt thick, hot fluid pouring down his throat, into his belly, and even though he couldn’t taste it his brain told him it was putrid, terrible, and God, he couldn’t breathe at all as the Galra kept him flush with his body, pumping weakly as his cock twitched. 

The tongue inside of him slithered out, granting him a reprieve, but the hands on him stayed, kept him open wide. He struggled, vision graying around the edges, trying to breath through his stinging nose and

“That was quick. Was his mouth that good?”

“Yeah, hot and tight, hugged my cock real nice.  The druids did good work with his throat, like they always do.” Hands swept down his face, claws raking over his skin hard enough to draw blood. “Can’t wait to knot that omegacunt, bet they made that just as nice. And he’s so small, he’ll stay tight til the end.”

He was fading, heart beating hard in his chest as he trembled and the world grew darker. There was something pressing against his hole, pressing into it. It was wide, much wider than the toy they’d used on him earlier, and it hurt as it tried to force its way into his loosened entrance but all he could think about was air, breathing. 

The Galra behind him thrust forward hard, filled him in one more more hard push and the world stuttered and darkened. 

When color came back he was being fucked hard, the Galra’s thick hot length hammering into him. It didn’t hurt as much as he thought it should, the cock in him sliding in and out easily, but it did hurt. Burned, every thrust feeling like the Galra was carving out a place for itself in him, changing him. He felt even hotter than before, like he was on fire, and he couldn’t think right, thoughts like water circling the drain then slipping out of his head. 

But, under all of that, there was a gut twisting something. Something good that dragged guttural groans out of him every time the Galra’s cock hit it. His cock was straining against the cage but he didn’t feel the pain of it anymore, just a need that couldn’t be satisfied. Hands gripped at him, dug into his skin, and the sound of skin slapping against skin echoed dizzyingly in his head.  

Someone stepped in front of him, smaller than the first with pale purple fur. The Galra’s cock slapped against his cheek, precum painting a trail, then against his forced open mouth. He sobbed when the Galra’s cock, longer and thinner, slid into his mouth. His throat convulsed, tried to close up but couldn’t as it was invaded once again. 

“I can’t believe you weren’t already an omega with a mouth like this,” came from above him and he didn’t know what that meant, refused to comprehend that he could be this ‘omega’ thing they were trying to make him, but he wanted to cringe away from the tone, the words. 

Shiro’s body shook between them, rocked back and forth by the force of their movements. And they used force, took him hard and rough. A hand smacked his ass, a point of stinging pain and he wanted to focus on it instead of the loathsome tingling pleasure building in his gut. The Galra taking him from behind was grinding against his prostate deliberately and panting into his ear, murmuring softly about how good his cunt was. His skin crawled with disgust but, in the same moment, the soft rasp of fur against him made his toes curl. 

It was...nice. 

“Gonna knot him,” the one behind him rasped out, voice tight. “Ready for that omega? You probably can’t tell but I’m the one who brought you down and being the Black Paladin’s first knot is my reward.”

Laughter came from above him. “That’s what you are now omega. A reward for the loyal, a breeding hole.” 

There was a feeling of being stretched further, of something pressing against his rim and making it open up further, painfully, and then it was in him. The Galra pressed closer, ground down as the...whatever it was grew. The Galra pulled out and there was a tug and twist and the bulge came free; Shiro whimpered at the pain, sure that was the worst it could be, but then he was slammed back into. 

Shiro shrieked, body shaking, as the bulge was forced in and out of his body. He was being split apart, torn in two, and yet his cock was still trying to get hard and pleasure was still rushing over him. The cock in his mouth, jammed down his throat, twitched and on the drag back he tasted bitterness. 

“Shit. That’s a pretty sound.” 

A hand rubbed over his flank and another ran through his hair, deceptively comforting as he was pushed into again. This time the Galra stayed put, the bulge crammed inside of Shiro throbbing, and he cooed into his ear. 

“Don’t worry omega, you’ll learn to like it. The first one always hurts but I bet you’ll be begging by the sixth one. Helps keep the fever away.” 

“We have to keep count then!” someone shouted. “To see if you’re right.” 

Laughter echoed in Shiro’s head, a humiliating soundtrack to the warm rush of liquid that flooded his insides. He tried to pull away again, arching against his bonds and pulling with all the strength in him. A hand settled onto his back, pushed him down, and then the Galra ground against him; pain shot up his spine. He bore down on the cock inside of him, desperate for some kind of relief from the intrusion, and the Galra hummed appreciatively. 

“He’s milking my knot already.” His ass was smacked again, a sharp crack he felt in his gut. “He’s taking it better that any other ‘mega I’ve had in here.” 

“He’s going to be Haggar’s best work,” a familiar voice announced. Shiro’s eyes rolled around, trying to see past the blinders, past the clenching muscles of the Galra using his mouth. That was Zarkon! Was...was the Emperor watching this? 

Something about the thought of Zarkon watching his humiliation made it worse. Shame flared hot in his chest but, he noticed, he didn’t feel as feverish as he had a few moments before, not as dizzy. Had...was that Galra right? Had his ‘knot’ done something for the sick feeling swimming inside of him? 

He hoped it hadn’t. 

The Galra in his mouth dragged out until the head of his cock was on Shiro’s tongue, just resting there. Salt and bitterness oozed over his tongue. The Galra started pumping his cock, hips moving just a little. Shiro could do nothing but wait for what he knew was coming, eyes clenched shut. A hand pressed against his nose, pinching off air, forcing him to breath raggedly around the cock in his mouth. 

Cum flooded his mouth in hard pulses; some of it oozed out of his mouth but more of it had to swallowed down so he could keep breathing. It was thick and noxious and he struggled with it, swallowing over and over when it seemed like it was clogging up his throat. The cock in his mouth, starting to go soft on his tongue, slipped out when he mouth was empty.

“Good boy. Swallow it all down, we don’t want you getting hungry.” 

Shiro sensed that one moving away and another taking his place. His head was wrenched up hard, scalp tingling where his hair was yanked, mouth pushed into again, and a hand slipped down to wrap around his throat. When the Galra’s cock slid down the hand squeezed hard and made the invader feel that much larger. He still didn’t choke or gag, throat as open as his mouth to what was happening. 

The Galra behind him, inside of him, was going soft and the bulge was shrinking rapidly. It wasn’t fully gone when he pulled out of him and Shiro yelped as pain flared again. A finger poked into his loosened hole, dipping into the cum inside of him, and then swiped over his back. There was shuffling and the presence behind went away but, just like his mouth, he wasn’t left empty for long. It doesn’t hurt as much, not at all really, and the Galra fell into a rhythm quickly, pumping into his body with hard fast thrusts. The cum already inside of him was forced deeper and it was soothing in a way that made his head pound. 

He wanted to not...be there and tried to grope for the hidden part of himself he’d learned to fade into when he’d been in the arena. In that space his body could work without him, do whatever it took to survive including kill, and he didn’t have to be aware of it. It was how he’d escaped from the Galra, how he’d fought and killed on command, how he’d managed to fight back the urge to scream when he had nightmares or memory flashes. But the Galra raping him wouldn’t allow it; constant pressure on his prostate keeping him in the moment and writhing against the bench. The other Galra reached under him and pinched and pulled at his sore nipples, rolling around the metal that was now peircing them. They were sensitive, more sensitive than they’d ever been, and every touch to them was like electricity under his skin. The fire under his skin came back, stronger than before, turned into an inferno that Shiro was sure couldn't be right, couldn't be okay. Sweat poured off of him, sealed his skin to the bench, and dripped down to the floor. 

His stomach cramped in painful waves that warred with the jolting pleasure of having his ass used. His jaw ached, tired from being held open, and he knew his nose and eyes were leaking. Not that the Galra seemed to mind, huffing and puffing as he pistoned into Shiro’s mouth, the spongy head of his cock battering the back of his throat, as he breathed out endless praise. His mouth was hot, his throat tight and wet just like an omegacunt, his lips looked good open around a cock, he was such a pretty omega, would be even prettier once he was full of Galra pups. 

It sounded sincere, almost reverent. 

Shiro wanted to curl up and hide away but there was no where to go, nothing to be done. 

Hands fondled his cock through the cage and again he was laughed at. “You’re leaking so much. Are you hungry for it already?” The Galra punctuated their words with a thrust so hard it forced Shiro forward in spite of his bonds, pushed the cock in his mouth deeper. He felt it in his stomach, hard and throbbing. “We’ll keep those hungry holes full omega.” 

His face grew hot, flaming in horror and shame as the room laughed around him.

The one fucking his mouth came first, down his throat with one spurt and then across his face with hot splashes of semen, swearing as he used his hand to milk himself dry. It felt slimy rolling down his face, glued his lashes together and made it impossible to do more than crack his eyes open, and he let out a choked sob as the softening cock pushed back into his mouth. 

“Use your tongue to clean it up or you’ll take two cocks, knots and all, in that pretty omegapussy of yours next time.” 

It didn’t occur to Shiro not to do it; there was just no way he could take two at once, he couldn’t. It was hard to swallow back the bile, and self-hatred,  as he licked at the still oozing tip, cleaning out the slit. It didn’t taste as bad as the one before it and swallowing down the Galra’s cum was easier. 

Someone called him a good boy. 

The second knotting wasn’t as bad as the first, though it didn’t feel good. The third didn’t either but each one pushed back the fire trying to consume him, gave him moments to think, to scream in his head, before whatever strange fever that was taking hold swept him under again. The cramps came and went when he was knotted, when cum was poured into him, and so relief came when the Galra came in him. 

The fourth made him scream from something that wasn’t pain and after the seventh, counted by tally marks laid on his back in cum, the cage on his cock was freed. There was more laughter, always so much laughter, more taunting as another tally mark was made on his back and finally, finally, he was able to lose himself. 

Something else filled in, took control of his body, and it was shameless, didn’t care about anything but survival. 

He was dizzy, floating somewhere else, barely registered one Galra stepping away and someone else taking their place. They didn’t go for his mouth right away, the head of their cock rubbing over his cheek, through the mess slipping over his skin, before sliding over his lips. He licked it, cleaning off the tip and pressing up against the underside as it was slowly fed into his mouth. The threat of having two Galra take him at once urged him on, made him work his tongue and throat as best he could. 

“How many knots is that?” came from somewhere. “He’s sucking it now, like a good little bitch.” 

“Doesn’t count til he gets off. That’s how you know it’s taking.” 

“Of course it’s working, you can smell him.” 

There was something cloyingly sweet hanging in the air, in his nose. It was faint, barely there, but getting stronger with each passing moment. 

When the Galra in his mouth released he meant to drink it all, rather than struggle to breath yet again, but his stomach rebelled almost instantly. He threw up, cum and acid; the Galra hopped away, avoiding the mess, laughing again. Shiro coughed and moaned weakly as the contents of his stomach came up, burning his already raw throat. 

“Ungrateful slut!” He flinched at the harsh shout. “You should thank us, not throw up what we give you.” 

The Galra using his ass didn’t falter in their pace, grunted and huffed their way through their orgasm and shoved his knot past his sore rim and as far into his sensitive channel as he could. He howled, orgasm clawing him up with needle sharp claws and tearing what was left of him apart. He shook, sour acid surging up again, and if he hadn’t already cried himself dry he would have started again. 

His ass was patted soothingly then the hand slid around, under him, to fondle his still hard cock. “There you go omega, you’re already coming from being knotted. It takes some weeks before they get it right.”  

“Plug him when you finish and get water into him,” Zarkon commanded. “Then begin again, another two rounds at least. Break him.”

There are more, he counted them all from somewhere else but didn't really let himself understand the number. They fucked right into the mess inside of him without hesitation, forced cum in deeper, forced it out of him until it coated his thighs, dripping over his skin. He came with them even though they never touched his cock. He whimpered when the knots came out instead of when they pushed in, sighed when another cock replaced them, and it went on and on and on. 

He knew something was changing, could feel it in his blood, felt it twisting in his gut. His body felt not right, still hot and sensitive but also...more. Strange, like the sugary scent clinging to his skin. He hated it and he was still angry somewhere inside of him and he wanted to kill every Galra who used him, to silence their jeers and praise forever. But he started moaning and twisting, kept his mouth open when the gag came free, rocked back in search of more. 

Nothing hurt anymore.

\---

Zarkon had him last. He was unbound, allowed to slide down to the floor into a heap for a moment and then picked up and laid down onto his back. Long fingers pressed into him first, scraping out the cum inside of him and then pounding into him until he was digging his nails into the bench and crying. Something wet was leaking out of him, something that felt slippery and warm and carried a heavy scent.

The fingers came free and his legs were pushed up and up, spreading him obscenely. He moaned when Zarkon entered him, back bowing and toes curling. Zarkon smirked at him. Shiro tried to turn away, to hide his face, but strong fingers gripped his face and forced him to meet the Emperor’s eyes. 

“You are mine now, Shiro. You will bear my children and then, when I am done with you, you will carry for whoever I choose for you.” Fingers pressed into his mouth and he sucked them reflexively, couldn’t stop himself from doing in. They were slick with something, tasted honey sweet with a touch of salt; he sucked them clean and the Emperor let out an approving rumble. “You will serve my empire well.” 

Zarkon was big enough that it somehow ached, just a little. He felt in in his stomach, reshaping him like all the other Galra had done and yet different somehow. Branding him, making him belong with each slow, forceful, roll of his hips. And Shiro needed it; he didn’t know why he needed it, couldn’t comprehend the electric tingling spreading out from his core or the oppressive presence that seemed to be filling him alongside Zarkon’s cock. Couldn’t understand why he felt so good on Zarkon’s dick or why he hummed and moaned around the fingers fucking his mouth.

He just knew he needed more. 

His legs went around the Emperor, ankles locking together, and a dark chuckle filled his ears as fingers pressed back, back, and then started to slide in and out of his drooling mouth. He could still taste honey on his tongue.  

“Look at you. The Champion. The Black Paladin. The Head of Voltron. On his back, taking a cock like a common whore.” The words were like hooks, digging into Shiro and peeling back everything he was to leave him open and exposed. “Begging for his enemy’s knot. That is what you want, isn’t it?” 

Shiro flinched in the same moment as something else surged up, encouraged by the words. Zarkon’s voice was deep and smooth, forceful, and it demanded Shiro submit to it. It clawed at his bones, into his marrow, and yes, yes that’s what he wanted. 

“Ask for it.” Zarkon’s fingers pressed down on his tongue and claws scraped over it. His tone was almost bored but Shiro could hear the command. He could feel it, rattling inside of him and taking root in his brain.. “Ask your alpha nicely.” 

He blinked then let the fingers fall from his mouth. His hole clenched, holding the Emperor tight and tried to drag him in further and he could feel it, the thickening at the base and he needed it. 

“Please,” Shiro whispered. Zarkon said nothing, but he only pressed in far enough for Shiro to feel where he was wider before dragging back out. He didn’t let him have it, teased at his swollen, abused entrance. “Please.” 

Zarkon’s tongue darted out, dragged over Shiro’s cheek, and words were whispered into his ear. He took them in and repeated them. He didn't want to but he had to because he was ordered to, because he couldn't not make his mouth form the words.

“ _ Alpha _ , please, knot me.” 

Zarkon’s knot hammered into him, fat and hot and knocking the air out of his lungs. It slid in and out of him brutally and Shiro panted, eyes burning with tears he didn’t know he had left. It was bigger than all the others, made his sore muscles burn, but when it locked in and cum filled his body again he came too, mouth open in a silent cry. 

He knew what to say next, had already had it whispered in his ear. “Thank you Alpha.” 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro wakes up, but the nightmare continues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whatever you do, mind the tags. This is not a nice story.

Shiro awoke with a jerk, eyes wide and muscles immediately tense. A closed gag with a bit pressed down on his tongue, rendering him utterly voiceless. Involuntarily, he tried to reach for the gag, shocked by his ability to move his arms--both his arms, flesh and metal. He stirred his legs and found them shackled, but still free of the straps binding him to the breeding post. His arms were shackled too, but he could lift them, touch the strap behind his head--

“Stop.” Zarkon’s voice, deep and annoyed, froze Shiro in his place. “That gag is for your own protection. You are not allowed to speak unless spoken to, and after your realignment, your body is recovering and not strong enough to bear the punishment you would receive for speaking out of turn.”

Shiro lowered his hands as Zarkon approached, and then lowered his head as well. He could see his own reflection in Zarkon’s boots as the Emperor stood before him, his gaze crawling over Shiro’s skin. Wide eyes underlined with deep bags stared back out at him.

“Good.” Shiro flinched at the sound of Zarkon’s voice. “You are already in the proper submissive position--a fine start to your new life. Now, sit and listen well, pet.”

Zarkon’s armor creaked as he folded his arms behind his back, his boots echoing on the floor as he circled Shiro. Shiro kept his head down, but dared to glance around the room.

He had been resting in a shallow depression on the floor, a wide concave oval lined with pillows and blankets. Nearby was a grand bed with a chain snaking away from one of its posts and towards Shiro--and he knew by the weight and warmth around his neck that the chain connected to his collar.

The significance was not lost on him.

“You no doubt feel humiliated, degraded. As you should--you have sinned against the Empire and received our strongest punishment, short of death.”

Shiro’s stomach cramped as the memories of his degradation came upon him, hard and merciless. Knot after knot stretching him open, drool and come dripping out of his mouth. A laughing alpha smearing pre on his cheek. Another dipping his finger into the semen pooled inside Shiro, tallying the number of alphas who’d knotted Shiro in semen, and every alpha afterwards adding a tally mark.

_ “Two dozen and still tight as a vise _ ,” purred one alpha.  _ “Whoever owns the Champion will always be pleased.” _

“Yet.” Zarkon’s voice broke through his memories, and Shiro clung to the sound keeping him in the present. “Your punishment is not the end.”

Shiro fought the urge to tremble. What more could they do to him? How much further could he stripped of his dignity? Visions of blood, pain, laughter danced through his mind, until Zarkon’s fingers touched his chin.

“Realignment, Champion,” said Zarkon, tipping up Shiro’s head, “is for those who have sinned against the Empire, yet still have potential. For people who are too valuable to throw away. The Empire needs its omegas, and not all who go through realignment are unwilling.” Shiro blinked, and Zarkon smiled. “Did you think we would constantly abuse and dishonor the carriers of our children?”

Zarkon jerked his hand out from under Shiro’s chin, and then shoved Shiro’s head downward.

“You are to be our first human omega, Champion. A test case. Yet, you are not the only one with the potential to add fresh blood to the Empire.” Zarkon walked towards a narrow table and touched a memory crystal.

Matt Holt’s picture bloomed into view, right in front of Shiro’s face. He look tired, unhappy, and Shiro’s heart ached for him, for his sister. Then realization struck him, and his muscles tensed all over again.

“Right now, it is more profitable to plumb the depths of the Holts’ scientific knowledge, and see how human intelligence compares to that of the Galra,” said Zarkon. “The father is too old for breeding, but if the first human omega proves too ungrateful, or loses his life, the younger Holt can be substituted.”

Zarkon’s voice was calm, but the threat was loud and clear for Shiro.  _ Do your duty, do not commit suicide, or it will be your friend strapped to the breeding post in your place. _

Shiro could not do that to Matt, to Katie. He’d already failed them, they’d already lost so much--he couldn’t make Matt into the one drooling and sobbing as he was knotted over and over again, couldn’t let Katie hear of her brother being turned into a whore for breeding.

Shiro closed his eyes. Then, soundlessly, he lowered himself to all fours, legs spread. Zarkon purred. 

“Not yet, Champion. You are recovering.” Zarkon paused, and when he spoke again, Shiro could hear the smirk in his voice. “Though perhaps I can fulfill your urge to serve in another way.”

Zarkon stepped towards him, and suddenly Shiro was moving through the air, turned around, carried in Zarkon’s arms as easily as he would carry a kitten. The bed loomed in Shiro’s vision as Zarkon brought him towards it. Zarkon sat down, plopped Shiro in his lap, reached down to spread his legs again, easily lifting up with one arm Shiro’s legs until Shiro’s knees touched his chest. 

“Let me show you how your body has changed.”

A mirror arose from nowhere, and Shiro saw himself in full. His cock, balls, and ass were on full display and he turned away, but Zarkon nudged Shiro’s face forward, almost nuzzling him.

“There have been changes both within and without.” Zarkon touched the studs in Shiro’s ears, the rings in his nipples, the barbell under the head of his cock. “These are markers of status. The more healthy pups you bear, the more precious the metal. If you provide us with another omega, your piercings will be decorated with a faceted Balmera crystal.”

Zarkon palmed Shiro’s cock, chuckling when he jumped. He dragged his thumb briefly over the head of his cock, and then lifted it to expose the double row of...beads on the underside of Shiro’s shaft. 

  
“This is merely for my own pleasure and amusement. And then this…”

Zarkon reached down and traced the pucker of Shiro’s anus. It was a feather-light touch, but Shiro shuddered, feeling his cock stiffen and pleasure creep up his spine. He’d never been this sensitive before, not there.

“This received the most extensive modification. Watch.” Zarkon circled his pucker again, with that same light, teasing touch. The tip of his finger dipped inside, and came back shining and wet. “You now produce slick, making it easier for you to take the cocks you need to breed. Your body will also recognize the presence of a mate, opening up to accept your alpha. Observe.”

A few more light touches and Shiro jumped as Zarkon’s finger slid in. There was only the whisper of a sting, and then Zarkon’s finger came out coated with slick, easing his way back in.    
  
“There is more.” Zarkon leaned down, his lips tickling the shell of Shiro’s ear. “You now have a second entrance inside of you, below your prostate. Here.” Zarkon’s finger tapped on something, something delicate, and Shiro winced behind his gag. “If you are ordered to prepare yourself for breeding, only finger your second entrance if you are in heat. Otherwise, you will hurt yourself, and no one wants that.”

Shiro nodded, only to jump when Zarkon swiped his finger over his prostate.

“Your first day and you already show signs of understanding your new status.” Zarkon withdrew his finger, rubbed it against it his next digit, and then shoved both inside of Shiro. Both fingers began rubbing Shiro’s prostate, lightly, gently, almost playfully. “Would you like to come, Champion?”

Shiro’s chest heaved as he watched Zarkon penetrate him, his cock swelling to full hardness, already dripping pre. That was new, he’d never leaked so easily--then, without warning, Zarkon added a third finger and Shiro tipped his head back and moaned.

“If you are worried about disobeying, you are allowed to come from being fingered,” said Zarkon. “Merely nod and I will bring you to release.”

Shiro sucked in air through his nose, trying to think as Zarkon’s fingers pumped in and out of him, faster now. Did he want to come, yes, but shouldn’t he not, shouldn’t he try and preserve some sort of dignity? But Matt--would not coming when offered the chance be seen as ungrateful? Would Zarkon be unhappy?

Shiro nodded, back arching when Zarkon nipped at his ear. Zarkon leaned back, bringing Shiro with him, withdrawing his arm from under Shiro’s legs and letting him lower them. Zarkon wrapped his now free hand around Shiro’s cock, collecting the copious pre and using it as lube, fingers and hand twisting--

Release came, blinding yet soothing. He clamped down around Zarkon’s fingers as his hips stuttered, fucking the Emperor’s hand. Zarkon milked him throughout his climax, directing his cock so Shiro’s seed splattered onto his own leg.

Then it was over, Shiro shuddering as Zarkon released his cock and withdrew his fingers. Zarkon pushed Shiro off his lap and then made him lie down on the bed, back against the silky-soft fabric. Then he was gone, the sound of water reaching Shiro’s ears. His eyelids drooped, and then shot up again as a warm, wet cloth touched him, cleaning him.

“This is your life now, Champion.” Zarkon rubbed the impossibly soft cloth in circles, cleaning up every drop of slick and come. “To be cared for by an alpha. To be pleasured. To eat the finest foods, sleep on the finest silks. To receive the best and most thorough medical care as you swell with strong pups.” Zarkon’s lips twitched. “Such a hard life.”

Zarkon’s sarcasm stung, but it was true. Shiro wasn’t fighting for his life anymore. He wasn’t struggling to rescue his family, or doing his best to carry on despite the loss of everything he held dear. All he had to do was lie back on a soft bed and take it.

Zarkon moved away again, a plush chair rising to meet him as he sat down. A few more gestures and a low table bearing food rose next to him, a plump cushion forming at his feet. Zarkon pointed to the cushion. 

“Come here, Champion.”   
  
Shiro attempted to stand, but found his legs weak. After a second’s thought, he slunk down to all fours and crawled over to the cushion. Zarkon purred again, and reached down to bring Shiro up on his knees. A touch to his chin made Shiro lift his head, and to his surprise, Zarkon reached behind his head and untied the gag.    
  
_ Speak only when spoken to. _

Shiro took a deep breath and did nothing more. Zarkon smiled, lips closed, and then reached over to the plate of food. He brought back a slice of meat, rare enough that Shiro could smell the blood. 

“Eat.”   
  
Shiro ate bite after bite of rare meat and crisp vegetable from Zarkon’s hand, and when Zarkon pressed his fingertips to the Shiro’s lips, Shiro sucked and licked them clean of blood. Zarkon reached over to the plate again, and in his palm was...what looked like a large raindrop*. 

“Drink.”

Shiro lowered his head and pressed his lips to the palm-sized raindrop. To his surprise, when he sucked at it, his mouth filled with cold, clear water. He swallowed and sucked until the raindrop shrank away. 

Zarkon purred, and reached out to run his fingers through Shiro’s hair, playing with the white forelock. 

“Good pet.”

 

*The “raindrop” is known as “Omega’s Dew” and is the preferred way for an alpha to give his omega water. Omega’s Dew can be flavored for special occasions, or impregnated with vitamins, or sedatives, or aphrodisiacs. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know, it's been quite a long time since the last update. Thank to everyone who continued to leave kudos and ask for more. I'll work on this as I have the energy to do so.


End file.
